. . .I know you didn’t, but I came to the conclusion that I oughtn’t to have moved you in the beginning, so I tried to make it good. I’m sorry if you don’t like it.”

“Oh, I don’t care,” replied Peck, with indifference, going to transfer his clothes to the empty closet.

Archer strode over to Alumni to luncheon, disappointed in the outcome of his efforts to make amends for his act of thoughtlessness. He felt that he had come as near an apology as he could, without actually falling on his knees and demanding forgiveness with tears. If Peck was still sore, he might go hang! His favor wasn’t worth having.

That evening Peck inquired what kind of a house it was that Archer’s family had lived in 37 for four generations, and for the first time in six weeks of co-residence, there occurred between them what might be called a conversation. But, as Sam gloomily remarked to himself afterward, it w. . . Read More